


Down Below

by ferociouskitten



Series: The Bookstore at the End of the Street [1]
Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Diving, Drowning Mention, Gen, The Ocean and the Void
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:54:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29759940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferociouskitten/pseuds/ferociouskitten
Summary: The Iron Rose was a well-known name with those who spend their life at sea, sailing between the isles following a more or less legal cause. One of the few true treasure ships, sent by the first Kaldwin Emperor to the Duke of Serkonos, about fifty years ago. A show of goodwill, a bribe. It sank, of course.
Series: The Bookstore at the End of the Street [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2187237
Kudos: 2





	Down Below

The Iron Rose was a well-known name with those who spend their life at sea, sailing between the isles following a more or less legal cause. One of the few true treasure ships, sent by the first Kaldwin Emperor to the Duke of Serkonos, about fifty years ago. A show of goodwill, a bribe. It sank, of course. The strait of storms was vicious as always, and yet the Captain had decided to pass through there instead of sticking closer to the mainland and leading her through the Cullero Gap. A fear of pirates, they say.   
It hadn’t brought him any good, the people who told the story said, often accompanied with a laugh, and a call for more drinks. One should not talk ill of the dead, but when one man’s hubris took down a whole crew to the depths of the ocean, there rarely was a good word left for him. 

Nika had heard those stories for about as long as she’d been on the seas herself, maybe even longer. It had always been there, one of those stories where a hundred versions existed. People had tried to find it for as long as it was sunk, but even if there was a rough position, it wasn’t known. Records of what had been an embarrassment to the Emperor sealed away in academy archives to collect dust. Not that the exact positions mattered, because the strait was still treacherous, a deep trench running straight through the chain of islands that made up the eastern tip of Serkonos, with jagged rock and violent currents, the winds as unpredictable as they were strong. Even the shallow areas, those that a ship could anchor safely at to send divers down, were too deep for them to see what was below.   
Others had told her that, of course, had warned her. Many had drowned trying to go after it, starting with the official attempt at salvaging the ship back in 1804, to numerous others who had been lured in by the promise of gold. Nika had shrugged, smiling all the way, but not cared to comment on that. Not after Lavinia had helped her find the records of the Iron Rose’s sinking, helped narrow down the area she had to search by a good bit. And once that was done, she had readied her own ship and set out. First, to ask her old captain for a favor, a piece of carved bone to keep the Balaena safe, to have her anchor's rope hold fast even in the current that liked to smash things against underwater cliffs. Captain Alima had laughed and patted her head as if she were still a child, telling her that if she’d die, nobody would ever find her corpse. Nika had laughed too, taking the praise for what it was. 

Now, she had anchored her yacht as close to the area indicated on the maps as she safely could, had shedded her shirt and strapped on the tool belt. It wasn’t much, a large knife to pry at things, cut tangled rope, and keep the things that lived down there away if it came to that. Some strings, and a bag made of netting. Her bare hands touched the water first as she jumped in, the mark on her left flashing a bright whale-oil blue as she let out the air from her lungs, calling on to the Void within her bones instead.   
The first breath still felt like drowning, even though she had done it numerous times by now. Diving under, drawing the salty water into her lungs. It hurt, the parts of her mind that were all too human stirring in panic as she pushed herself to swim deeper along the anchor line, to keep breathing, until the sting faded, every last bubble of air now replaced with seawater. The salty taste familiar on her tongue, Nika allowed herself to relax, to just let her body adjust for a moment. Her Mark pulsing in time with her heartbeat as she pulled the Void over her eyes, her vision shifting to hues of blue-grey that cut through the darkness, sharp and clear. The glow from her hand creeping along other lines of ink, spreading out, as the magic settled down. It had started to feel like coming home lately. There was whalesong filling the water as she let herself sink further, not the kind that rang out from carved bones, but that of a living, breathing leviathan. She passed them as she went downwards, smiling to herself as she remembered how whales were both a good or a bad omen - depending on how closely the sailor in question followed the Abbey’s teachings. To her, and to the old captain and her crew, they had always been a good omen. 

Nika couldn’t see the sun above her any more, but it didn’t matter, her void vision still enough to let her see what was around her as she let go of the anchor line after tying a small piece of bone to it. It had no real purpose, her first attempt at crafting that now served as a beacon of sorts. Something that led her back to her ship, that she could hear call for her specifically.   
Looking down, she could see the dark outlines of a jagged underwater mountain range below, shaped by the currents until it resembled the teeth of something great and ancient. This place was old, she could feel the Void calling for her. Wanting her to go deeper, to follow its siren song and never return. Nika ignored it, focusing on her purpose as she let herself drift, searching the cliffs for any sign of the Rose. 

She didn’t come into view all at once, the tip of a mast the first Nika could see, then a yardarm, the rigging and sails ripped off by the currents long ago. Laying on her side, speared by one of the sharp teeth made from stone, as if her hull was paper and not steel. The corpse of something that had once been great, now a shadow of her former self.   
Nika could feel the water pressure on her body, but it did not hurt. It had, at first, when she’d been new to her powers, limiting how far she could go. By now, after years of using it, of collecting runes and diving for both bone and gold, it didn’t any more. Not at the depths she ventured at. Going truly deep, for the trenches, the places Void and Ocean mixed into one still felt like a bad idea. Her body was still human and not whale, even if her Self was neither. Not quite human any more, not with the Void in her bones and seawater in her lungs. 

Pulling herself along what had once been the starboard side of the hull and now made for the top of the wreck, passing what had once been a gilded sign proclaiming her name. Iron Rose. As much of a Ghost as any of those ships. Now, it had faded, the gilding flaking off, with kelps and small corals clinging to any rough places on the hull to defy the currents, giving a home to many sizes of fish. The big ones ignored her presence while the smaller ones stayed at a distance, the same way they would keep out of a redshark’s way.   
An advantage of being small was that Nika could slip in through cracks and holes in a ship’s hull that more bulkier persons would get stuck in, and that were impossible to get through for anyone wearing a diving suit. 

It always took some time to adjust to the shifted angles of a sunken ship, to figure out what way had been up and what had been down once, compared to how it was now. Doorways opening below or above, swaying slightly as she moved past. The waters were calm here, almost stagnant. Nika moved carefully, so she wouldn’t disturb it too much, breathing in silt was annoying and hurt. Not that there was too much to see there, with every item having tumbled to port - or the bottom, now, she thought - when the ship sank. A quiet hum, at times, telling her of the dead that were still on board, their bones quietly calling with a curious note. Not like charms, it was a quiet noise, something only heard if it was silent otherwise. Quietly, she let them know that she wouldn’t disturb them, that they could rest where they had fallen, assured that they wouldn’t be touched. Bones didn’t care about gold, after all, and Nika knew better than to try and take those that did not want to leave. 

Passing the hold, she saw the looming shapes of what had once been bundles of finely woven fabrics, silk from Wei-Ghon as much as brocades from Potterstead or Dunwall itself, now waterlogged and rotten, overgrown with a thick layer of algae as they disintegrated into silt. Porcelain, now smashed, still shimmering brightly in between the browns and greens and rusted reds of the wreck. But those weren’t the things Nika was after, not now. Even the crates that likely held gold were ignored, carrying any of that to the surface would be annoying - and it wasn’t the most valuable thing on the ship’s cargo list. Swimming further through the wreck, past more bones and what looked like a particularly disgruntled grouper, Nika found her way to what had once been the captain’s cabin. Often the most luxuriously furnished place on ships like these, it was now just as rotten and waterlogged as anything else. Furniture that had been bolted to the floor now on the wall in a defiance of gravity, carvings and some leftover shimmers of brass, stained glass now cracked giving an idea of how it had looked once. It was always interesting to see how death had it all look the same, with corals and algae latching on to convenient places, schools of small fish waving in and out of the busted panes of glass. A crate, now resting at the bottom, that she slowly moved towards, apologizing to the skull that laid not too far away as she accidentally brushed against it. It sounded tired. 

Nika held her breath as she pried the lock off the rotten wood, a cloud of silt enveloping her as she forced the rusted hinges to move, opening the lid. Her heartbeat picked up as she saw the first shimmers of gold and emeralds, jewelry crafted with colorful gemstones, the precious metals not corroded even after decades of being submerged in salty waters.   
When the silt had settled, she started to carefully move those from the chest, and into her bag made from fine netting until it was heavy with glittering golds and the chest emptied. Only afterwards did she allow herself to laugh, a sound that carried through the water, because she had Done It. Claimed the one wreck everyone said was impossible to claim. Swimming back out almost felt like dancing, giddy with excitement over what she had found. Her body following the water, the currents, thanking the Void and the Sea and everything in between. 

\----------------------------------------

There was a certain sway to her walk as Nika stepped onto the docks, a grin on her face that had never left, some bits of gold catching the light on a new leather cord around her neck. A golden ring that held a finely carved bit of Emerald. An imperial Sigil, her proof. 

“Next round’s on me!,” She called out as she entered the pub, knowing that all eyes were on her, from the cute barmaid to the trio of old drunkards in a corner. “I found the Iron Rose!” 


End file.
